What You Never Saw
by lexabelle
Summary: Dr. Cal Lightman and Abigail Andrews are caught up in their messiest case to date where they are forced to learn that sometimes it's what you don't see that is most important. A continuation of the Abigail Andrews OC series.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** What You Never Saw

**Character/pairing:** N/A

**Rating:** PG/T

**Spoilers: **Season One, First Half of Season Two.

**Summary:** Sometimes it's what you don't see that is most important.

**Author's Note:** The continuing tales of OC Abigail Andrews. Please read "The Crush", "Happy Belated Birthday" and "Masks" for more back story on Abigail and her more amusing interactions with Cal Lightman.

**XXXXX**

Prologue

_SIX MONTHS EARLIER..._

If there was one thing Abigail Andrews hated it was being unceremoniously awoken in the morning. Abigail's roommate knew and respected this and always made sure that his schedule in the morning, whatever it may be, never caused Abigail to wake up. He had been on the receiving end of that particular anger-filled rant more times than he cared to remember, however on this particular morning the roommate was nowhere to be seen. Still, something had woken her up, but what?

Abigail sat up in bed, slightly stunned and still more than half asleep when a rhythmic pounding emanated from the heavy front door of the shared apartment. She decided that it couldn't be anyone worth getting up for as whomever it was had not buzzed up to be allowed in. With an audible groan, she flopped back down onto her bed, pulling her sheets and comforter up over her head.

The pounding continued, she continued to ignore it.

When Abigail heard the familiar tones of a loud and frustrated British accent coming through the door and down the hall to her room, a voice that was saying, "For God's sakes, love, you call me up this early in the morning, when I'm still sore from our last romp because, Good Lord woman, you ride me like a rodeo pony, telling me you need some 'British Delight', whatever the hell that is, to get you through your morning, and then you have the gall to leave me standing here for everyone to see, and how hear-"

Moving fast was not one of Abigail's strong points, but knowing full well that her entire floor had just hear her boss, Doctor Cal Lightman, espouse lies about her needing him for an early morning sex romp, she made it out of bed, into her robe and had the door open before he could finish his sentence. "Get in here," she hissed, trying to ignore the very interested look she was receiving from Mrs Boothe, her 86 year old neighbour. Cal poked his head back outside of the front door, winked at Mrs Boothe and said, "We'll try to make it extra loud for you, eh?" before Abigail physically pulled him into her apartment and slammed her door shut.

"You're sick!" she exclaimed, hitting him none too lightly on the arm.

"I'm efficient," Cal commented back, rubbing his arm. "Tossing me around, hitting me? I always knew you liked it rough, Abby," he leered, his eyes dark yet twinkling.

Abigail wisely chose not to continue that particular discourse with Cal. Trying to spar with her older colleague would only end up with her confused as to what they were really talking about. Cal Lightman was not one you chose to verbally attack unless you knew exactly why you were attacking him in the first place. "What time is it?"

Cal frowned slightly. "You're not even trying anymore." Abigail raised her right eyebrow at him and he looked at his watch. "It is almost seven o'clock in the morning."

"It's not even seven? Get out," Abigail glowered, pointing at the door.

"I have a very good reason for being here this early, if that helps," Cal offered.

"I don't care if you've found a two headed dinosaur that sings, get out!"

Cal quickly changed tactics. "Is your roommate here?"

"No."

"When is the last time you saw him?"

Abigail's eyebrows knitted together, as she tried to remember when she had last seen her roommate. "A few days ago, maybe Saturday? What does this have to do with anything?"

"He's involved with something," Cal said smoothly, his eyes taking in her every facial twitch. "Something bad."

Rolling her eyes Abigail snorted, "Oh, please. Philip, involved with something bad? He's a singer! What, did he up and join Menudo or something?" she joked, crossing her arms in front of her.

"You're uncomfortable," Cal pointed out, letting his gaze graze over her crossed arms.

"I'm uncomfortable at you accusing someone you don't know anything about of doing something bad," Abigail replied archly.

Cal pulled a sheet of folded paper from inside his jacket pocked. He unfolded it and held it up to for Abigail her to see. The paper had a colour image printed on it, and that image was of Abigail's roommate Philip holding a gun to a persons head, while another man held a gun to Philip's head. Abigail's eyes widened and she backed herself up against a wall.

"What happened?" Abigail whispered, tearing her shocked eyes away from the image on the paper and meeting Cal's.

Cal refolded the paper and held it out to Abigail but she made no move to take it away from him, so he put it back into his jacket pocket. "We don't know for sure yet, love," he said gently, putting his hands on Abigail's shoulders and slightly squeezing them. "The police are downstairs, they want to talk to you and search the apartment. The sergeant owes me a few favours so he let me come up and talk to you first." She nodded, only half hearing him. "Am I allowed to get dressed? Before they-" she trailed.

"Of course, they know you're not going anywhere." Cal nodded, and after he realized he'd said too much he silently hoped that Abigail didn't notice what he'd said. Sadly, she had heard him. "Not going anywhere," Abigail repeated. "Am I a suspect in something?"

"No, Abby, you are not," Cal said in what he hoped was his most reassuring tone. "The police just want to talk to you about Philip, that's all. I'll be here with you the whole time."

Silently, Abigail turned and walked back to her room, Cal following. He took up a position outside of her bedroom door looking out and away from her room, hearing drawers open, the sound of clothes being taken off and being pulled on. She invited Cal in when she was finished dressing, when he entered he saw her sitting on the edge of her bed looking dejected, hands folded in her lap. Cal crouched to be at eye level with her.

"Is he OK?" Tears had begun to pool in Abigail's eyes.

Cal put his hands on top of hers. "No news is good news, right?"

Abigail looked into Cal's eyes. "Please don't lie to me," she quietly pleaded. "If you know something, anything, you need to tell me. Please."

"I have told you everything I know," Cal answered, eyes looking directly into Abigail's. She sighed and closed her eyes, "I believe you."

Cal pulled his cell phone out of its holster. "I'm going to let the police know they can come up, all right?"

Abigail silently nodded as Cal dialed the number and made the call.

**XXXXX**

_PRESENT DAY..._

In the early morning light at the offices of The Lightman Group, four tall men wearing jumpsuits waited patiently for the staff members to make their way into the office for the day. The four men were there for two people and two only; they would not make their presence known until those two had arrived at the building.

Singly and in groups members of the staff began to filter into the building. None of them were the two people the med were looking for, so the four men continued with their menial blending in tasks. No one ever suspects the office cleaners, especially when they've been working there for the past few months.

Doctor Lightman needed to pay, he and his little protégé in training. They would pay for what they did, pay for the blood on their hands.

It was their fault their Leader's son, Philip, was dead.

Now they would pay _dearly_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** What You Never Saw

**Character/pairing:** N/A

**Rating:** PG/T

**Spoilers: **Season One, First Half of Season Two.

**Summary:** Dr Cal Lightman and Abigail Andrews are caught up in the aftermath of their messiest case to date where they learn that sometimes it's what you don't see that is most important.

**Author's Note:** Apologies for the long time between chapters, it's amazing how crazy life can get sometimes, isn't it?

**AN The Second:** Thank you all for pointing out the temperature discrepancy! I was thinking numerically American but the Canadian Celsius got in the way. My apologies. =)

**XXXXX**

_Six months earlier…_

It was the chill of what everyone at The Lightman Group referred to as 'The Cube' that Abigail noticed first, not that the temperature was set at an uncomfortably cold level, far from it. The temperature was a steady 70 degrees Fahrenheit. Normally, many places were set to a more comfortable 72 degrees Fahrenheit, but strangely, it was found that having it those two degrees cooler made all the difference in the interrogations that went on there. It was kept cooler to ensure an individual's heart rate wouldn't rise too much to assist in warming the person up, also to ensure that the person wasn't too warm when the questioning began – allowing any sweat or flush to show through. Again, as was an unwritten policy at The Lightman Group, it wasn't about comfort, it was about aiding in finding the truth.

Gillian Foster strode with business-like purpose into the control room, looking through the glass at her co-worker. "I thought the police had cleared Abigail," she questioned, not taking her eyes off the shrunken figure sitting in the cube.

"She brought herself in," Eli Loker began to explain while adjusting camera angles and bringing different programs up on his computer screen. "She figured if Cal clears her then maybe the press will too."

Gillian closed her eyes and sighed softly. "It would simply amaze me if the media stopped looking for a story and just reported the news for one day."

"There's no money in that," Loker responded. "The media is owned by corporations, owned by the Government. They report whatever news they have to in order to get viewers, viewer who watch commercials and viewers who might buy the products of the commercials."

"One big, angry circle of life."

"One big, angry, multi-billion dollar circle of life," Loker corrected.

"Of course," Gillian said with a slightly sarcastic edge.

Loker looked around. "So where's Cal in all this?"

"He's pulling the 'shock and awe' approach. He wants to try and catch Abigail off guard."

Loker whipped around in his chair to meet Gillian's eyes. "Shock and awe on an employee who knows what's coming?"

Gillian almost imperceptibly shrugged, then turned her attention back to Abigail. "Look at her, Eli."

He did look at Abigail, taking in the dull hair pulled haphazardly into a ponytail, the dark circles under her eyes, the sweatshirt and jeans a few sizes too big for her, and finally her position. Abby was slumped over the table in the cube, head resting on her forearms.

"It's like she's been totally destroyed by this," Loker commented.

Gillian slightly tilted her head to one side. "That's the problem. She has been destroyed by this, but it isn't the first time something like this has happened." She turned back to look directly at Loker, "If it were she'd be totally incapacitated. She's not."

Loker looked back at Abigail. "She's been destroyed before, then?"

Gillian nodded, looking through the two way glass at Abigail.

Abigail just wanted to sleep, and if that meant being the first person to fall asleep in the interrogation area that was just fine with her. She wasn't sure if Cal was just making her wait or if there was a legitimate reason for the hold up, either way she was still tired and she was just going to put her head down for a moment…

She didn't wake up for a few minutes (or what she assumed was a few minutes,) and Cal still wasn't in the room. She sighed and readjusted herself in the chair where she sat and began to try to count the seconds that passed again.

Dr Cal Lightman entered the room in his usual breezy and commanding way. He sat down in the chair and made himself comfortable, leaning way back, his arm flung over the back top edge of the chair. He inhaled sharply and focused his eyes on Abigail. His voice was almost playful as he asked, "Have you showered since this happened, because, God, you look like shit."

Abigail didn't respond at all – she didn't have to. She knew Cal was trying to assess her new baseline, what she was like now after the murder of her best friend, and the new Abby didn't respond to Cal's jibes.

Looking her over up and down, Cal moved on. "So what brings you here today, Miss Andrews? Tell me."

Nodding, Abigail began. "I need you to have proof that what I'm saying to everyone is the truth," she said, her voice very low and even, but all in a sort of monotone that triggered a spark of worry in Cal. He couldn't do anything about that worry now, in the middle of an interrogation, but he would approach her later on it.

"The police believe you, you've been cleared."

Abigail closed her eyes for a long moment, and then opened them again. "The police can change their minds, especially with what the media is digging up and throwing all over the news."

Cal was never one to beat around the bush. "Did you kill your best friend, Abby?"

Abigail's non-verbal response surprised him, and she said aloud, "No, I did not kill him."

Immediately leaning forward in the chair, Cal laid his head on his arms and looked up at her. "You didn't kill him," Cal concurred, but raised a finger and pointed at her, "but you feel _awfully_ guilty about something. Care to share?"

Abigail inhaled and bit the inside of her cheek. This was exactly what she had come here for; to get the truth onto the table, to make sure The Lightman Group could verify her innocence. Now that this moment was here, though, she was hesitant. Did she really want to say this aloud?

Cal shuffled his feet and again leaned back in his chair. "I adore watching you think, love, but I haven't got all day, so if we could-"

"He loved me," Abigail said simply. "He loved me and…"

"I am _literally_ hanging on to every word now, Abs."

Abigail raised her eyes and looked directly at Cal. "I loved him back, but I wouldn't let us be together."

"Why the hell not?" Cal questioned. "Stop that, I saw that eye roll. You called us here, not the other way around."

"It never would have worked. We were too different. His family had a very specific idea as to who their son should marry." She shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't fit the bill."

Narrowing his eyes, Cal looked through Abby's words. "But he did want to marry you, then? It had come up?"

Abigail wiped a stray tear away. "He asked, but I couldn't…"

"Oh, for the love of God!" Cal slammed his hand down on the table. "Why am I here, Abigail?

"I couldn't marry him, not then. But…" Abigail inhaled deeply, "later on, I had to."

Cal managed to keep the shock off his face. "What do you mean, 'you had to' "?

"I married him," Abigail shrugged.

The control room erupted in chatter.

"The hell? Abby's married?" Eli exclaimed, bringing up other search engines on his computers and frantically typing while Gillian flipped through a file folder in her hand.

"I don't recall her ever saying anything before, it must have been recent."

"Oh man," Loker said after a moment, leaning back in his chair and running his hands over his face. "It's the classic love story. Guy meets girl, girl refuses guy, girl needs…"

"Seriously? A green card?" Cal's eyes finally showed the shock he felt. "I'm sorry, but you married your best friend, whom you're already in love with, _not_ because you both loved each other but because you needed a bloody green card?"

Abby didn't even blink. "I was only a part time researcher here then, I had no permanent job. It was either get married or go back to Canada."

"So that's where the ring came from? You said it was your grandmothers."

"It _was_ my grandmothers; we just added a new level of meaning to it." Abby fingered the diamond ring she wore on her left hand.

Cal shook his head, "What a tangled web you weave, love. Now, it's not that I'm not interested in all of this, but what exactly does this have to do with his death?"

Abby looked down for a moment, and then looked up, her eyes peeking out from behind her bangs. Her eyes were filled with fresh tears. "Because marrying him is what got him killed. So it is my fault, in a way."

**XXXXX**

_Present day…_

It was the cold of the cement floor that Cal noticed first off, the taste of blood in his mouth the second. It wasn't the first time he'd woken up on a chilly floor with an iron taste in his mouth, but it was one of the first times he couldn't remember why he was there. Slowly blinking his eyes, he tried to survey his surroundings, to gather his bearings, but the room he was in was practically bare. No windows, four walls, no discernable doors, only a table and two chairs broke up the monotony of gray. He was inside of a warehouse maybe, or a garage. There was no way he could be sure. Groaning, he turned onto his back and looked up at the steel reinforced ceiling. A small moan to the right of him drew his attention, and he clumsily rolled on the direction of the sound. "Who's that then," he questioned, not bothering to reduce the venom in his voice. When he finally looked over, he saw a person, hands and feet handcuffed with a hood over its head, lying face down on the ground. The ring, however, was a dead giveaway as to the person's identity. Instantly Cal, who was neither bound nor hooded, went to help Abby as best he could under the circumstances.

"Abby? Abigail? Are you awake? Give me a sign, love." He rolled her over as gently as he could so she was facing right side up, which is when he saw the note and key taped to the front of the hood.

_the cuffs can come off_

_the hood stays on_

_or else_

Cal ripped the key from the front of the hood and unlocked Abby's shackles. "Abigail, it's Cal. Are you awake?" He felt a slight tremor go through her body and he pulled her close. She was cold in his arms. "What…what happened?" Abigail squeaked.

"Not sure, I don't know where we are. Are you all right? Do you hurt anywhere?"

"Just all over sore," Abigail said slowly. "My head, and I'm kind of nauseous. What about you, are you OK? Do you have a hood on?"

"I don't, no."

Abigail started to twist away from Cal, possibly trying to stand up. "OK. Can you take my hood off then now, Cal?"

Cal closed his eyes and wrapped Abigail in an iron grip, preventing her from moving anymore, and rested his head on top of hers. "No love, I can't. Our esteemed hosts strongly suggested I not remove it."

Abigail inhaled deeply, her voice choked up with tears as she spoke. "Our hosts? Who the hell is doing this?"

"No clue, but I'm going to try and find out. Just stay calm, Abby, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Right?"

Cal lowered her back to the ground and laid a hand on her head as he spoke. Abigail made no response and rolled onto her side so she was curled in a fetal position, but made no other movement. Standing up and looking around, Cal spread his arms wide and addressed the empty room as loudly as he could.

"Oi! Someone gonna tell us what's going on here?"

Cal slowly turned around as he spoke. He heard a noise coming from one of the corners and took a few steps forward, trying to investigate without getting too close. A rustling of fabric and a muffled scream from behind caused Cal to spin around, two men were restraining Abigail. "Hey!" Cal moved to go to her but was stopped by a strong hand on his shoulder, someone was pulling him backwards and spun him around.

"You called?" the masked man joked before delivering a knock out blow to Cal's temple.

Everything went dark.


End file.
